Excerpt
“HELL OF A TASK HQ’S handed us, Jason.”
“And with no wriggle room to speak of comrade.”
Earth’s premier intergalactic export, comedy skills training, was proving surprisingly popular among the more warlike races. On Space Station 8913XE, Jason Trixie, Head of PR, passed a tiny data-screen to his colleague, Andromeda Maguni. “The next applicant is Gajel Bajor Blood Red Fury. Hails from Ether O’er’All. Etherians share just one flaw: an obsession with honour.”
Andie flicked him a dry look. “Just one flaw. And psychopathic makes two.”
Jason grimaced lightly. “Par for the course, I’m afraid. Let’s just say, expect a bloody outcome in any game of tic-tac-toe. They’re very sore losers.”
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